CHAPTER XXVI
_Black Cloud of Death_
I must revert now to that time in the gardens of Maida's palace at theGreat City when we stood upon its roof-top, threatened below by that mobof _slaans_. Georg stood with the cylinder in his hand, waving it. Thepalm foliage was freezing. Down through the swirling snow fell thefrozen bodies of the _slaans_ who had climbed into the gigantic palmfronds. The thuds as the bodies struck the ground sounded horribly plainin the stillness. Georg was still waving his cylinder. Snow and ice weregathering everywhere. Incautiously he lowered the weapon; a brief,momentary chill--the congealing breath of the Arctic in this warmpalm-laden garden--swept the horror-stricken crowd.
"Georg, have mercy!"
Maida's frightened, pleading words brought Georg to his senses. Hesnapped off the cylinder and dropped it behind him to the palaceroof-top. He was trembling and white as he stood with his arm aroundMaida. Weapons so drastic as this one were seldom used. Indeed, it waslaw throughout both Venus and the Earth that no civilian should possessthem. The power for wholesale death in his hand, and which withoutwholly meaning to, he had so nearly used to its full effect, hadunnerved him.
Without the ray, the wind soon died. The warmer air mounting, melted theice; the snow ceased falling. But the swath of shriveled foliageremained--a hideous scar cut into the luxuriant tropical growth.
The mob had forgotten its threats, its evil intent. Silent for a moment,it now burst into outcries. Motionless: then milling about, strugglingaimlessly with itself--struggling to retreat. A panic of terror. Theboats in the lagoon were retreating. The _slaans_ along the fringe ofshore began hurriedly to embark. The groups huddled at the palace stepswere trying to shove the others back. In a rout they tumbled into theirboats and scurried away. Maida's voice, striving to reassure them, wasunheard.
And presently the scarred, trampled garden was empty and silent.
The rebellion, checked thus at its start, was quelled. Throughout thecity that night--for the _slaans_ to hear whether they would or no--thebroadcast stations flung their stentorian tones to the people; a speechby Maida; her promise of better things to come for the _slaans_; the endof Tarrano's brief rule; a reorganization of past conditions. Maidaherself had never been in control in the Central State. The luxury--thelicense-of the ruling class had been no fault of hers. She promised fairtreatment now to the _slaans_. She was to marry Georg Brende, the Earthman.
Maida did marry Georg. With the many stirring events--a time whendisaster and death threatened us all--so soon to follow, I shall notpause to describe the wedding. A quaint, yet magnificent spectacle.Maida in her regal robe; Georg looking every inch a ruler. Their bargeof white leading the procession--a barge of white flowers, its sideslined with maidens to fend off the deluge of blossoms with which theonlookers assailed the bridal couple. The arrival at the marriageisland, where on an altar the quaintly garbed holy man immersed them;and the solemn men of law united them as one.
It was a night of rejoicing throughout the Great City; and on everymirror in the Empire it was pictured for those who could not be present.
A time of rejoicing. Yet then--as always those days--my heart was heavy.Elza was held by Tarrano. We knew he had taken her to the City of Ice.There was of course, no radio communication with the Cold Country. Wehad tried eavesdropping upon it, but to no avail. Tarrano's close-flungbarrage checked every wave we could send against it.
Time passed--a month or more. We were worried over Elza naturally. Yetthe saving grace was that we knew Tarrano would treat her kindly; thatfor the present at least, she was in no danger.
Georg and Maida took possession of the Central State. Their rule startedauspiciously, for by a series of speeches--a reorganization of moneypayments--the _slaans_ seemed well satisfied. Loyal, and with a growingpatriotism, an eagerness to help in the coming war with Tarrano.Georg--without actually saying so--made them believe that the only hopeof everlasting life was the recovery from Tarrano of the Brende model.The model was in the City of Ice; it must be captured.
As a matter of fact, to us of the government, the Brende model was notindispensable. The greatest factor was that the threat of Tarrano'suniversal conquest must be forever removed. Like a rocket-bomb, this manof genius had risen from obscurity--had all but conquered the threegreatest worlds of the universe.
I think that the height of Tarrano's power was reached that day on theeve of the Water Festival when he made his triumphant entry into theGreat City. Venus was his at that moment; all of Venus. Mars was his;the Hairless Men--savages who had fallen readily to his wiles, hadconquered the civilized, ruling Little People. And the Earth, over-runby his spies, deluged by his propaganda which, insidiously as rust willeat away a metal, was eating into the loyalty of our Earth-public--ourown great Earth was in a dangerous position. The Earth Council realizedit. The Almighty only could know how many of our officials, our men intrusted positions, were at heart loyal to Tarrano!
The thing was obvious. The assassination of our three rulers--leaders ofthe white, yellow and black races--with which Tarrano's campaign in theopen had begun--those assassinations could never have taken place hadnot our military organization been diseased.
Facts like these were constantly coming to us now, here in the GreatCity. A brief time of physical inactivity. Yet underneath the calm, werealized there was a struggle going on everywhere; a struggle ofsentiment, of propaganda, of public opinion.
Warfare, with modern weapons by which a man single-handed might destroya city--is no longer a matter of men. The citizen--unarmed--united insentiment and desire with a million of his kind--becomes the real ruler.You cannot--because you have a weapon--destroy a million of yourbrothers.
We realized this. And in the ultimate decision--the popular fancyalmost--of our publics--lay our real success or downfall.
Tarrano in the popular mind had a tremendous hold. Dispatches from Earthmade it plain that upon every street level the people were discussinghim. From the Great City daily we sent bulletins of our progress towardchecking--destroying--the menace of him. But bulletins also wereemanating from the City of Ice. We could not stop them. Cut off at everyofficial Earth station--and with all unofficial stations unable toreceive them--nevertheless at some secret station which could not befound, they were received. And from there, circulated throughout theEarth. The air was full of them. Mysteriously, scenes showing the greatTarrano appeared upon the official news-mirrors; a speech of Tarrano'swas once officially broadcasted before its source could be located andstopped.
Like a smothered fire smouldering, lacking only a breath of vital gas toexplode it into flame, the sentiment for Tarrano spread about the Earth.
Public opinion is fickle. It sways instinctively--not always, butoften--to the winning side. Here in Venus we knew we must defeatTarrano. Destroy him personally and thus put an end to it all forever,since his dominion hung wholly upon the genius of his own personality.
Our spies, some of them, got to the City of Ice, and back. A few flyingmen were able to hover about the city, and with instruments peer downinto it. We knew that Tarrano was mobilizing for a move upon the Earth,where with a war-like demonstration he hoped to be accepted, yielded to,without a severe struggle. But, within a month now, we learned he hadabandoned that idea. He knew, of course, our own preparations to attackhim; and he began concentrating everything upon his own defense in theCity of Ice.
His last stand. We officials knew it. And we knew he felt it also. Andthough on Earth our public felt differently, the Little Peoplerecognized it. A stirring, wonderful time--that day when on our mirrorswas pictured the revolt of the Little People against the Tarrano rule ofthe Hairless Men. Grim scenes of tragedy; and over the carnage, theLittle People triumphed. Tarrano's rule--with all the excesses of theHairless Men who proved themselves mere rapacious plunderers in the nameof warfare--was at an end on Mars.
The effect on Earth of this Martian reversal was beneficial to us. Agood omen. We on Venus, redoubled our efforts to attack succes
sfully theCity of Ice.
Mars could send us no aid, though now in full sympathy with us. Theplanet was daily at a greater distance from us; and the Little People,not recovered from the effects of their own bloody strife, were in noposition to help us.
Nor did the Earth Council deem it wise to send men additional to thosefew we already had. The Earth was rapidly being left behind by theswifter flight of Venus through her orbit. The official season for themail-flyers was closed. The opposition of the two planets was long sincepassed; millions of additional miles were adding to the space separatingthem.
And the Earth Council was not sure of its men! Any one of them mightsecretly be in Tarrano's service--and do us infinitely more harm ifbrought to Venus, than if left at home.
We seemed of solid strength in the Central State. For the first time ingenerations the _Rhaals_--the men of science from whom all the progressof civilization on Venus came--departed from their attitude ofaloofness. Their work--always before industrial--now turned to thesterner demands of war.
The Rhaal City[22] lay a brief flight from us. A grave sort ofpeople, these _Rhaals_. Men of square-cut, sober-colored garments; womenof sober grey flowing robes--white hair coiled upon their heads.Intelligent women, dignified of demeanor; many of them learned as werethe men.
[Footnote 22: An awkward, unpronounceable word which for the purposes ofthis narrative may be termed Industriana.]
Their city, teeming now with the preparations for war, was intenselyinteresting to me. We spent most of our days in it, flying back atnightfall to Maida's palace. Yet I shall not describe it, nor ourpreparations, our days of activity--but hasten on to the first of theextraordinary incidents impending.
It came--this first incident--through my thoughts of Elza. I wasworried--more than worried, sometimes almost terrified about her. Myinstinct would have been to take a handful of men and dash to herrescue--which of course would have been absurd. I tried to reassuremyself. Tarrano would treat her kindly. Soon, in full force, our armywould descend upon the City of Ice, capture it, destroy Tarrano--rescueElza.
Rescue Elza! Ah, there lay the difficulty which I never daredcontemplate in detail. How would we rescue her? Tarrano would treat herkindly, now during his own security. But if, at the last, he saw his owndefeat, his death perhaps impending--would he treat her kindly then?
I loved Elza very deeply. A new torture came from it now. Did she loveme--or Tarrano? I remembered the gentleness of the man with her. Hisdignity, his power--his undoubted genius. And who, what was I? A merenews-gatherer. A man of no force, and little personality. A nonentity.Sometimes as in my jealousy I contemplated Elza with Tarrano now, I feltthat he was everything a young girl would fancy. How could she helploving him?
At night, when sleep would not come to me, I would lie tossing, thinkingof it. Did Elza love me--or Tarrano? Once I had thought she loved me.But she had never said so.
It was out of this constant thinking of Elza that the first of theincidents I have mentioned, arose. There came to me one night thefeeling that Elza was near me. I awoke from half sleep to fullwakefulness. In my bedroom, upon the low couch on which I lay, the aurallights of Venus spread their vivid tints. The palace was silent; I satup, pressing my palms to my throbbing temples.
_Elza was coming nearer to me!_
I knew it. Not by any of my bodily senses. A knowledge, which suddenly Irealized that I had. A moment, and then I was conscious of her voice! Nosound; my ears heard nothing. Yet my brain was aware of familiar tones.I recognized them, as one can remember how a loved voice sounded whenlast it was heard.
But this was no memory. A present actuality; it rang soundless in mybrain. Elza's voice. Anxious! Frightened!
At first only the confused _tone_ of it. Then the consciousness ofwords. Two reiterated words:
_"Danger! Jac! Danger! Jac!"_
I waited no longer, but rushed to Georg and Maida--beautiful Maida inher robe of sleep with her white hair tumbling about her. Georg halfawake--yet almost at once he could understand me, and explain.
Natural, instinctive telepathy! It had not occurred to me. I had neverbothered to develop telepathy; and indeed with any degree of fluency--oreven of surety of reception--the phenomenon is difficult to perfect.Yet, as I knew, with a loved one absent upon whom one's thoughts dwellconstantly--in time of stress telepathy is occasionally automaticallyestablished.
It was so in Georg and Maida's case, back there in the Mountain Stationon Earth. Telepathy was the explanation of Georg's mysterious actions ashe stood there before the sending mirrors, crossed the room inconfusion, and like one in a dream leaped from the window to be seizedby Tarrano's spies. Maida had been abducted a moment before. Georg'sbrain became aware of it. Her danger, the appeal she sent to him.
So it now seemed to be from Elza to me. Georg, out of bed now beside me,urged me to greater efforts of concentration, that I might understandwhat message Elza was sending.
_"Elza! Elza dear! Where are you? What is it?"_
I murmured the words to myself as with all my power, I thought them overand over, flinging out the thoughts like radio waves into the night.Mysterious vibrations! In an instant, from here--everywhere in theuniverse. Who knows their character? Their speed? The speed of light alaggard perhaps beside the flash of a thought! Waves of my thoughts,speeding through the night, with only one receiving station in all theuniverse! Would Elza's brain capture them?
_"Elza dear! Where are you? What is it?"_
_"Jac! Danger! Jac! Danger!"_
It was very clear. The words rang in my head. But always only those two.And then at last--it may have been an hour later--other words:
_"Death! The black cloud of death! You can see it coming! See it coming!Death! To you Jac! To all of you in the city!"_
We rushed to the casement. The broad lagoon before the palace lay like amirror tinted red and purple. Beyond it, palms and the outlines ofhouses lay dark against the star-strewn sky.
But out there, over the city, in the distance a dark patch obscured thestars. We watched it breathless. A dark patch which soon took shape. Acloud! A black cloud--unnatural of aspect somehow--a rolling, low-lyingblack cloud. Growing larger; spreading out side-wise; sweeping towardthe city on a wind which had not reached us.
_"Jac! Jac dear! Danger! Death to all the city!"_
Elza's words were still beating in my brain. Soundless words of terrorand warning!
_"Death, Jac! Death to all the city! The black cloud of death!"_